


it's gonna take a superman

by kellifer_fic



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 14:51:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1473790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kellifer_fic/pseuds/kellifer_fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek figured the Children of Villains support group would at least be full of outcasts like him. How wrong could he be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's gonna take a superman

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Sky High fusion fic - however no knowledge of the source material is required. Basically, there is a high school that caters to superheroes or the children of superheroes and that's really all you need to know.

Derek regrets his decision to walk into the room almost immediately.

It’s just, the Guidance Counselor had looked so resigned when she’d said _just one extracurricular activity would it kill you,_ and he’d wanted to say that it would because he would die of boredom but what the hell. She was a nice lady and she was starting to physically droop whenever he walked in the room which, he wasn’t made of stone, alright?

So, he’d gone to the notice board and picked the flyer that had least made him want to throw up in his own mouth. Miss Palmer probably would’ve preferred something like the booster squad or the chess club but Derek figured the Children of Villains support group would at least be full of outcasts like him.

How wrong could he be?

Derek is three seconds from about-facing when he gets to room two-oh-six to see it’s Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall setting up the chairs and pegging plastic cups at each other. 

Stiles Stilinski is a junior, but Derek knows who he is because _everyone_ knows who he is. He’s been famous from birth, the progeny of Sheriff and Lady Kick and the world is waiting with bated breath for the moment he goes into Service. His powers are a closely guarded secret which makes everyone salivate more after him and he’s the darling of the school and basically the last person Derek expects to be running something like this.

“Oh hell no,” Derek can’t help blurting and that alerts Stiles and Scott to his presence and also makes a silent, unnoticed retreat impossible. 

“Hey!” Stiles says, sounding surprised and staring. Scott elbows him and he seems to physically shake himself. “Sorry, hi! Welcome!” 

“This is... not what I thought it was,” Derek says, stepping backwards and Stiles takes a few faltering steps after him. He’d been looking really pleased to see Derek which is weird because _Stiles Stilinski_ does not know who he is but the expression drops as Derek holds up his hands and proclaims, “I’m out.”

“No, stay!” Stiles implores. “We have fruit punch.” He skitters backwards again and tries desperately to find a cup that isn’t dented from being used as ammunition and finally comes up with a survivor, holding it aloft filled with a violently purple liquid that Derek is pretty sure shouldn’t be ingested. 

“What are you doing here?” Derek complains because he’s genuinely disappointed. He knows most people assume he’s a loner by choice but he really isn’t. He’s shy, which people mistake for aloof and his upbringing didn’t teach him many of the social niceties. He’s too abrupt and he’s never going to be one of the spandex crowd considering his power is to turn into a massive black wolf with red eyes and huge jaws. He’d joined the school only last year as a junior but only weeks in after the first class picture had been tacked up on the school notice board someone had taken a sharpie and scrawled _most likely to go evil_ across his glowering countenance. 

Basically, he’d started hoping that a group like this would lead to friends which... he doesn’t know what he was thinking exactly. He wants to kick his own ass for being so pathetic.

“It’s my group,” Stiles says, the open expression he was wearing closing down a little, his ever-present side-kick puppy in the form of Scott McCall crowding close to him. 

“What, is this some way to make yourself feel even _more_ superior?” Derek sneers. 

“Hey!” Scott protests.

“Last time I checked, your dad still had the keys to Beacon City and a statue in his honor.”

“No,” Stiles says with a level look. “I started it because my older sister is Rattlesnake.”

Derek knows that, of course he knows that. He supposes it might be hard growing up in a family like the Stilinskis where your every move is scrutinized. Stiles’ older sister had gone spectacularly off the rails at sixteen, probably buckling under the pressure of trying to be perfect and she was now part of an organization called The Red Hand that was rumored to be run by Red V, a woman who was in battle with her husband. 

“Yeah, but-”

“Look, I thought about calling the group _Relatives of Villains_ but the children thing was catchier. We’re inclusive though. Everyone is welcome.”

“What about him then?” Derek asks, jutting his chin at Scott. He’s pretty sure Scott doesn’t have any dark branches of his family tree. Derek thinks his mother is a healer and as far as he’s aware Scott’s father is a Normal. He’s not really sure exactly why he knows so much about Stiles and his friend, other than the fact that the whole school is in the palm of Stiles’ hand so Stiles trivia seems to be forced on everyone, whether they like it or not.

“Scott’s been my best friend since we were little. He’s affected by my... As I said, this is an inclusive support group.”

“What are you even doing in this school?” Scott asks, raising his chin and showing backbone Derek wouldn’t have previously credited him with. “You’re like, forty.”

“I’m twenty-two,” Derek grumbles. He slumps into the nearest chair, pulling out his phone and bringing up Tetris Classic. Stiles kind of huffs at him before he goes back to righting and reshaping cups and opening packages of cookies. 

Derek looks up when the door opens again and then rolls his eyes. Jackson Whittemore is standing there with an expression that says he wishes he were anywhere else. He’s jostled into the room by Danny Māhealani from behind. 

“Hi, welcome,” Stiles greets warmly. 

“Half an hour and then you owe me pizza,” Jackson says to Danny over his shoulder.

“Just sit down you butthead,” Danny says, herding Jackson into a chair. Jackson raises an eyebrow when he notices Derek. 

“I thought dogs weren’t allowed in this building,” he says haughtily. 

Derek snarls at Jackson who pulls an unimpressed face at him. He tries to drop a fang but frowns in confusion when it doesn't work. Scott must notice what he's doing because he says, “The room is shielded against power use. They usually use it for detention. Besides, this is a caring space, no negativity.” 

Both Derek and Jackson groan, “Oh my god,” in unison and then give each other dirty looks.

“Seriously, so much pizza,” Jackson repeats, slouching further in his chair and crossing his arms like a petulant child.

“Danny, always lovely to see you,” Stiles says, handing Danny a cup of the dubious punch before he kicks Jackson in a way that could be totally accidental but probably isn’t. 

Derek bites down on a smile.

“Hey, um, is this the-?” A pretty, dark-haired girl is in the doorway, looking painfully hesitant and twisting the bottom of her shirt in her hands nervously. It takes Derek a moment to place her, but then all at once he does and he feels cold all over. It’s Allison Argent, daughter of the infamous Red V and proof that the super community is a small one. Scott falls over himself in an obviously smitten way in his rush to tell her she’s in the right place but Allison hesitates when she spots Derek. 

He pulls a resigned face at her and tips his head sideways to the chair beside him. She gives him a relieved smile and crosses to it, Scott watching her go and looking bereft about it. By all accounts Allison’s not her mother and she’s probably someone that won’t get on Derek’s nerves so he’s willing to give her a break. It can't be easy to have parents in Battle.

There’s a tall boy with an angelic face and curls to match, a blonde girl with a wickedly painted smile and another big guy who carries loneliness with him like an extra coat it’s so palpable to Derek to round out their group. Derek realizes he’s the only senior, the others all probably people Stiles had harassed into coming out of his own year. Derek’s seemingly the only surprise ringer but he’s here now and he has nothing better to do with his Wednesday night. 

“Awesome, good group,” Stiles says, clapping his hands together and tugging his chair into the rough circle they’ve made. He looks around like it’s not a bunch of glum people in front of him but something bright and promising and Derek wonders idly if his power is misplaced optimism. 

At least there’s no telepaths here, Derek thinks. He fucking hates telepaths. 

Stiles tries to get the group to introduce themselves and explain why they came, but other than Derek learning that the three people he didn’t know are Isaac, Erica and Boyd respectively, the proposal falls a little flat. They end up mostly talking about the school’s Save the Citizen team that year and how they’re doing before there’s a silence that stretches and Stiles finally calls an end to the most uncomfortable forty minutes of Derek’s life. 

“Same time next week,” Stiles says as everyone starts making a move and Derek just stares at him because it’s an assumption and not a question. 

“I’m pretty sure this is a failed experiment,” he says. 

“No way, man. You’ll be back, I know you will.” Stiles actually goes so far as to _wink_ at him like they’re sharing a joke and Derek snorts.

He gets outside the room and sees Allison hovering uncertainly. She startles a little when she sees him, but then sticks on a brave face and says, “Coffee?” Derek’s pretty good at reading most people and Allison’s reaching out to him in a friendly way without anything behind it. Derek’s not disappointed because his interest mostly lies in the direction of male lanky juniors with pretty eyes which is something he knows he’s going to have to deal with on his own, silently. 

Making a friend was his aim and Allison is looking at him with hope and maybe a little sad desperation. He can understand not wanting to go home and he offers her his arm. “Sure.”

*

Beacon City Selective was not Derek’s idea, but a series of therapists had pressed, thinking it would be good for him. Derek had taken his equivalency test and then entered as a junior, feeling conspicuous, but most people were either afraid of him or didn’t acknowledge him at all. He mostly ghosted through the hallways alone and hung at the back of classes, planning to coast until graduation. With a diploma he could go into Service which is what he’d always wanted.

He’s sitting at his usual table the next day in the back corner of the cafeteria when someone sets their lunch tray down opposite him. He’s expecting it to be Allison after the night before. The conversation between them while they’d sipped their coffee had been stilted but it hadn’t been completely disastrous. When Derek looks up though, it’s the blonde girl, Erica. She seems confident, not someone who would be lacking for friends, so he’s surprised it’s her.

“You always look totally grouchy,” she says, shaking a juice box before she tears the straw off the front and stabs it in the top almost violently.

“Maybe I _am_ grouchy,” Derek says, raising an eyebrow.

“Nah, I don’t believe that. I think you’re a total teddy bear under the gruff exterior.”

“You’re really, really wrong,” Derek says, because while he’s not as scary as people assume, he’s also not someone with a warm, gooey hidden center.

Erica ignores him in favor of digging into her salad so Derek figures he’s been dismissed as a conversational non-starter but then the tall kid, Isaac, sits gingerly down at their table as well. He’s hesitant about it, like he’s not sure of his welcome, but Erica just passes him her pudding without looking at him and takes the apple off his tray in return and he smiles into his chest and settles more fully onto his seat.

Boyd’s next, dumping his bag with a loud flump and almost groaning when he sits. “I would rather do three hours of Takedown training than one of Harris’ Weapon Chem classes any day.” Erica and Isaac make noises of agreement and then the three of them are eating in a comfortable silence and Derek just stares at them all. 

“So, this is just going to happen?” he asks about the entitled way they’ve all just invaded his space. 

“I’ll trade you half my sandwich for your cookie,” Erica offers in lieu of an answer.

Derek opens his mouth to ask again what they all think they’re doing but then he closes it. He didn’t exactly have normal formative years and maybe this is just how people make friends in high school. Instead, Derek says, “What do you have?”

“Tuna.”

“Okay,” he agrees and Erica makes gimme hands at him until he hands his cookie over.

By the end of lunch he has everyone’s numbers programmed into his phone and an almost whip-lashed feeling but it’s not... bad.

In his free period that afternoon he’s in the library when Allison drops into the beanbag chair next to his and digs a book out of an inside pocket of her jacket, offering him a shy grin. He offers her back a peanut butter cup from the package he’d smuggled into the library and she takes it with another smile.

He knows it’s weird, but it’s the best day he’s had in as long as he can remember.

*

Derek is what’s known as a Category Five. He thinks the categorizations forced on Uncommons are a bit arbitrary so he doesn’t really pay much attention to them. He supposes he has the luxury of ignoring them though because he’s virtually unrestricted in his class choice because of his categorization. He hasn’t really thought about it much, but he does now he’s friends with someone in the school Anti-Categorization action group.

“I refused to be part of the trials as a freshman because I didn’t have proper control so they classed me a one and called it a day,” Erica is explaining to a loose cluster of freshmen who are blinking at her in awe. Derek’s sitting behind the table out in the quad, keeping Erica company and handing her the petition clipboard when she makes clicky fingers at him. One of the freshmen keeps darting glances at him and Derek can’t help himself, he drops his fangs and snarls and the kid screams, turns into a rabbit and darts away, his friends quickly following. 

“Derek!” Erica snaps, whirling on him. “ _Again_?”

“Oh my god, did you see that? Bam, instant bunny,” Derek enthuses and Erica’s looking at him like he’s grown an extra head. “What?”

“Sorry, haven’t seen you laugh before,” she says.

Derek feels his cheeks heat and ducks his face, digging a popped claw into the table surface, scratching _D was here_ into the wood.

“Oh! Here comes that kid that turns into a green puddle when he’s startled. Wanna see who can make him liquify first, loser buys lunch?”

“That’s mean,” Derek says with a completely straight face. “But yes, yes I do.”

“Awesome,” Erica says. “Wait until after he signs my petition though.”

“Why don’t you get retested?” Derek asks. “You’re special-”

“Don’t call me that,” Erica snaps and the puddle-kid veers away from them. 

“Sorry,” Derek says, sincerely. 

“It’s fine, just... that word got tossed around a lot when I was a kid. Not in a nice way, either.”

“I understand,” Derek says and Erica narrows her eyes but then her expression clears and she nods slowly. 

“You coming to the meeting tonight?” she asks after thrusting her petition at another couple of students and glaring at them until they all sign.

“Do I have to?” Derek groans. 

“Hey, I think it’s good for us,” Erica says, squinching up her face and adding, “What did Scott call it, a non-judgement zone?”

“Ugh,” Derek says feelingly.

“Don’t even,” Erica says. “Besides, I know you have a total boner for Stilinski.”

“What?” Derek splutters. 

“Don’t worry, we’ve all been there.”

“I don’t have a-”

“Derek, it’s me, remember?” Erica says and waggles her eyebrows. Derek had learned quickly why a confident girl like Erica had trouble keeping friends. She was an empath and a strong one. What scared people wasn’t just her ability to read feelings, but also influence them. 

“Don’t tell anyone,” Derek says, mortified. 

“No duh,” she says.

*

Despite his bravado, Stiles looks surprised to see them all. Even Jackson’s back although it looks like he was dragged by Danny again.

“Okay so, I thought we should at least _try_ to get into the spirit of the group this week,” Stiles says when they’re all settled. Derek’s entranced by Stiles’ overlarge hands as he rubs them together and then curls them into his chest. Stiles has knobby wrists that stick out of the ends of his sleeves and Derek really wants to circle them with his fingers and-

Allison jabs him in the ribs with a bony elbow and he nearly jolts right off his chair. “Hey, what?” he snarls, belatedly realizing that everyone’s staring at him. 

“I asked if you maybe wanted to go first?” Stiles says a little hesitantly. “I mean, if you don’t then...?”

“No, it’s fine,” Derek says, surprising even himself by his willingness to contribute. Miss Palmer would be so proud. 

“Great,” Stiles says, giving him a dorky little thumbs up. 

“Okay, so, my Uncle is The Piper.”

“Yeah, we know, but how does that make you _feel_?” Jackson asks with a sarcastic twist to his mouth. Danny jostles him and he gives him a pissed off little pout. 

“It’s pretty lousy,” Derek says, choosing to answer the question even though Jackson was only being a dick. “We had to move around a lot when I was a kid because my mom thought he might want to hurt us, or recruit us. We stayed pretty isolated most of the time but it... didn’t help in the end.”

Allison touches Derek on the shoulder and he gives her a wan little smile. 

“Wow, way to be a downer,” Jackson says and this time Danny socks him in the bicep so hard he gets pushed off his chair. 

“God, why do you even bother coming?” Erica demands, bristling. 

“Because unlike most of you dweebs, I actually _do_ have evil parents. I didn’t realize I was going to be walking into a bullshit glee club instead of-” Jackson makes a frustrated gesture with his arms. “Y’know what? Forget you all.”

“Jackson,” Danny barks after him, throws an apologetic look over his shoulder as he follows Jackson when he storms out. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean for this to be-” Stiles starts to say, looking crestfallen and Derek can’t stand the way his face is basically breaking into pieces. 

“Isaac, your turn,” he blurts and Isaac physically jerks, looking horrified. 

“What? No!” he says.

“Erica?” Derek redirects because he doesn’t want to terrify Isaac to death by getting everyone to focus on him. He doesn’t know why he’s trying to save this doomed-from-the-beginning group other than for the fact that while, yes, mostly ill-conceived, it wasn't exactly a bad idea. There were... _are_ some people at the school drowning and no one had been doing anything about it.

“Fine,” Erica says, although she narrows her eyes at Derek in a way that tells him that she knows exactly what he’s doing. “I’m not actually related to any villains, which, don’t get me wrong, my family is bad news but they’re all... Normals. They’re boring, run of the mill criminals that get busted for shoplifting and stealing cars and I’ve been in and out of foster homes most of my life but I scare people so no one wanted me and there wasn’t really a group for that so I tried this one.”

Erica’s dashing at her eyes in an impatient way when she’s done and the room is silent. 

“Uh, good sharing?” Stiles says, swallowing hard. 

“You are so bad at this,” Erica snorts, but she’s smiling through a watery face so Stiles just shrugs and grins at her in a self-deprecating way. 

“I’m starting to think that, yeah.”

“It’s alright, no one can be good at everything,” she says and Derek catches the way Stiles’ expression dims for a second before he seems to rally.

“So, same time next week?” Stiles says jovially and everyone makes grudging noises of assent. This week Allison’s not the only one hovering outside the room when they’re leaving. Erica, Boyd and Isaac are also dawdling and Derek sighs heavily.

“Pizza?” he proposes and everyone looks around, makes _if we must_ faces but Derek doesn’t miss the way Isaac looks relieved, Allison pleased and Erica and Boyd link arms and jostle each other.

Just before they turn the corner, Derek throws a look behind him and sees Stiles leaning out of the room, watching them go with something on his face like yearning. “Should we ask Stiles and Scott to come?” he says, hesitating.

“I’m sure they have some douche-y party to get to,” Erica says, dismissive. 

The way Stiles is watching them, Derek isn’t so sure.

*

"Frankly Derek, it's more than I could have hoped for," Miss Palmer says. Derek had been more than a little hesitant about the mandated counseling sessions but they were a requirement of his attendance to BCS and he had to admit that they weren't as awful as he'd assumed. It was actually kind of nice to have someone to talk to who would give him an honest opinion without taking into account his history, his family or his power.

"I thought you might have been disappointed with my choice," Derek says a little ruefully, scrubbing at the back of his neck. 

"Well, it certainly wouldn't have been my first choice to get you more involved with the school itself but you've said you're making friends, right?"

"Yeah," Derek admits, and he has. He's bonded with Allison and Erica the most, but Isaac and Boyd also seem like good guys and they're slowly becoming a cohesive group. Derek has everyone's numbers and it's not out of the realm of possibility that he could actually call them, either. Erica texts him all the time, random little observations about her day and the criminal stupidity of the rest of the student body and he texts Allison about books they're both reading. Isaac's even sent him a link to a few funny cat videos.

"It's Stiles Stilinski's group, right?"

"Yeah, he started it," Derek agrees.

"That's what I want for you, to have a more rounded social experience. To get to know different kinds of people."

"Oh, well, I really only see Stiles at the group," Derek says and Miss Palmer narrows her eyes.

"Is that taking you out of your comfort zone? Is that challenging yourself?"

"Um, no?" Derek hazards and Miss Palmer nods.

"Derek, I want you to make _healthy_ attachments. I don't want you to become more isolated than you already are."

"I'm not really... that guy," Derek says, frowning.

"What guy?"

"The popular, center of attention guy."

"What do you think going into Service means?" Miss Palmer asks patiently.

"There are Uncommons that aren't into the whole media side of it."

"Yes, mostly Category Ones and Twos. You're not going to be able to fly under the radar like them. You're not going to be stopping bag snatchers and helping senior citizens cross the street."

Derek swallows thickly, suddenly sweating. He's know, deep-down somewhere, that the life of an active Uncommon was not a private one, but he'd still managed to be pretty deeply in denial about that aspect. "If I'm part of a team though and we have a spokesperson-"

"That's certainly a way to go," Miss Palmer interrupts, holding up a hand. Her expression is gentle but firm. "You would need to interact with someone higher profile in the _right_ way for that, though."

"I guess so."

"Did you know most of the famous teams formed at this very school? We're known for our alumni reaching greater heights."

Miss Palmer seems to be circling around something but Derek gets the feeling that she wants him to feel like it's his idea.

*

Derek has his own apartment so the others agree readily to his invitation to study. He panics a little about the untidiness and the fact that he curb-shopped for most of his furniture, but no one comments on it, instead all unfailingly jealous of Derek having his own space. Isaac even gushes enthusiastically about Derek's reclaimed bookshelf.

"A team?" Boyd says after Derek pitches his idea tentatively when they've put the books away and are passing Chinese takeout containers between them. 

"I guess it make sense," Allison says around her chopsticks. "I mean, it's known to be safer than being a solo."

"Plus, we're not all Fives like Derek here," Isaac adds. 

"That doesn't mean anything," Derek says immediately and Erica reaches over to pat him.

"I've trained you well, padawan," she says, tapping her index fingers together in miniature round of applause.

"Okay, not all of us are as _powerful_ as Derek," Isaac corrects, rolling his eyes. He's coming out of his shell more each day which Derek keeps telling himself is a good thing. 

"I wasn't thinking of myself as the focal point, though," Derek says.

"Who then? Don't bite my head off-" Isaac directs at Erica, "But the world is the world."

"Maybe Stiles?" Derek says and immediately ducks his head when everyone groans and throws things at him. He comes up and snatches a dumpling out of the air with his mouth though because that's just wasteful. 

"I'm all for being a wing-man, but c'mon," Erica says. "You're not using us to get into his pants."

"That's not what this is!" Derek shrills and immediately clears his throat, embarrassed.

"No, it makes sense," Allison interrupts. "He's already a name so it would be easy to get traction. He's good with people which... none of us particularly are and he's powerful."

"We _think_ ," Boyd pipes up.

"Well, yeah, but he's got to be if they keep him segregated," Isaac says.

"That might just mean he has no control and he's dangerous. That's not exactly what we'd want to be associated with, right?" Erica says.

"We don't know anything about him, not really. Other than he reached out to a bunch of people he didn't need to reach out to."

"He'll be a solo," Isaac insists, shaking his head. "Just like his dad."

"It can't hurt to ask. It's something to think about at least," Allison says and Derek's desperately grateful for her support.

*

Erica insists Derek ask Stiles at their very next meeting. He tries to argue that since all of _them_ are juniors, there's no rush but Erica flips her hair and tells him _do it before someone else thinks of it_ and really, he can see her point.

The meeting goes as usual until it's time for Derek to share and he decides that maybe opening up will make Stiles more amenable to the whole team idea so he braces himself and says, "My Uncle wasn't always evil."

The group had devolved into individual conversations but everyone goes silent and swings their attention to Derek. He thinks that maybe even some of them have stopped daring to breath, waiting on him to elaborate. "I liked the idea of this group so much because school was a turning point for Peter."

"How?" Scott asks.

"I'm only really going off what my mom told me, but basically Peter's power is to absorb other powers. Only for an hour or two and he needs to touch the person to draw the power. He got classed a Category One and his classmates started calling him _The Normal_ because they said he didn't have powers of his own. He got really bitter, withdrew from the family. He probably would have just stayed an angry black sheep if he hadn't discovered that he could take on a power permanently." 

Derek pauses, takes a moment to scrub a hand over his face. He's about to admit something he hasn't told anyone. No one really knows how Peter's powers work outside of the family and it's a source of horror for them all, or was until Derek was the only one left.

"He takes a power permanently if he's touching someone when they die."

There's silence and shocked faces until Allison reaches over and squeezes Derek's shoulder. Scott's looking at his hands, the others similarly with tucked chins. Only Stiles is looking at Derek steadily, nothing on his face but a kind of resigned sympathy. 

"He found out by accident. He was holding my sister Laura when she-" Derek swallows thickly, unable to say the word. He finally clears his throat and looks up again. "We're just lucky he's never managed to kill someone really powerful."

Derek thinks maybe he's brought the meeting to a halt and is about to apologize when Isaac lifts his face, mouth grim and says, "My dad pinned all his hopes on me after he didn't _realize his potential_. When my power manifested and it turned out it wasn't something flashy he... changed."

The meeting breaks up after another hour and Derek hangs back as the others move out into the corridor. Scott actually follows Allison so it's only Stiles and Derek left in the room, Stiles shuffling the chairs they used back against the wall. "Hey, thanks for that man. I know it was hard but that's really what I wanted this group to be." Stiles says when he's done and Derek's still hovering in the doorway, clenching and unclenching his hands into fists.

"No, it's fine. It was good to..." Derek flails his arms, hoping it conveys the relief of being able to talk about his Uncle and what had happened to his family, why it had happened.

"Yeah, I think Isaac really needed to open up, too. I think he's been carrying that stuff for a long time."

"I think it helps to have people he can feel safe with," Derek says and Stiles' mouth tightens a little and then relaxes as he nods. "Oh, hey, so... we've been getting pizza after the meetings. Did you want to come tonight?"

"Oh, um, thanks? But no, I can't," Stiles says. He actually looks disappointed about his refusal so Derek can't help but jump in with, "Or tomorrow? The guys usually come over and study and-"

"I really can't," Stiles interrupts, his expression and voice having gone flat. Derek just blinks at him, suddenly sure that no matter when he asks Stiles to do something, the answer is always going to be no. He's tried to breach some kind of boundary he wasn't even aware of, and with a sinking feeling Derek starts to wonder if maybe this whole thing has just been some kind of social experiment on Stiles' behalf.

"No worries. Forget I asked," Derek says, equally flatly. Stiles' hands come up when Derek turns like he's reaching, but then they fall back to his sides as Derek pushes out of the room.

"Hey, so how did-?" Boyd starts to ask but Derek shakes his head stiffly.

"I'm going to head home guys, I'll see you tomorrow," he says quickly and everyone looks confused except for Erica, who's throwing a narrow-eyed look between Derek and the room he's just left.

Derek retreats, and tries not to feel a stab of hurt when he hears Allison asking the others if they mind if Scott joins them.

*

"Maybe you just need to try again. Don't be such a quitter," Miss Palmer says.

"Believe me, he's not interested. I'm sorry I ever stepped foot in his social outreach program or whatever the hell it is."

*

"So you're quitting?" Allison asks, scrunching up her nose.

"It's just a stupid support group. There's no actual quitting. There's just me choosing not to go anymore because I don't need it," Derek mumbles into his sandwich, trying to ignore the puppy eyes Isaac is giving him and the way Boyd is silently judging his life choices. 

"That's it," Erica says, standing up and Derek grabs her jacket.

"Where are you going?"

"To find out what's going on. I can't get a read off him at group and he's too far away in the Five corner-"

"Erica, you're not going over there to read him. I could do it just fine last night without your powers."

"He's totally into you, though," Erica argues, but settles back in her seat. 

"Yeah, even Scott thinks so," Allison adds and Derek raises an eyebrow at her.

"He said that?"

"He said there was some stuff about Stiles you didn't know, that you should-" Allison starts to explain, but there's a commotion from the Five corner of the cafeteria that interrupts them and they all crane around to see most of the Save The Citizen team headed by Jackson standing at Stiles' table. Jackson is leaning over, saying something to Stiles and he looks pissed.

"Okay, now we _have_ to go over there," Erica wheedles, getting up again and this time tugging Derek with her. The others follow in a cluster, starting to look concerned as voices are raised. It's never a good thing for a brawl to break out in a school populated with kids with super powers, even if they're banned from using them outside designated class times.

Allison breaks away from them a little and crowds into Scott's side, who's looking like he wants nothing more than to step in between Stiles and Jackson who's pressing into Stiles' space. "What's going on?" she asks in a low voice, but Derek picks it up.

Not a lot of people know that even when he's not in his wolf form, he still has better hearing than most people.

"We tanked against Silver Lakes Prep last night and Jackson's angry at Stiles. He wants to know why Stiles won't join the team."

"I'm not allowed," Stiles says, voice edging between patient and exasperated, like it's something he's had to explain over and over again and he's getting tired of it.

"I bet Coach Finstock would sign off," Jackson seethes. 

"It's not up to him."

"No, I think it's up to _you_ and I think _I_ want to know why you won't join a team or go to class or anything with any of us."

"I told you, I'm not-"

" _Allowed_. Yeah, I heard you. You've been hiding behind Principal Deaton's skirts for too long. Just tell us what your power is."

"That's none of your business," Stiles snaps, leaning forward and Jackson reaches out and _shoves_ him.

He goes down hard, on his ass, scraping his left hand bloody. There's a beat of shocked silence and Jackson blinking wide, horrified eyes like even he can't believe what he's done and then... nothing. Stiles' face is upset as he pushes himself to his feet, holding his hand gingerly against his chest. Jackson's eyes are shrewd and before Stiles has properly gained his feet, Jackson pushes him again.

This time Stiles goes over the bench seat he'd been sitting on and hits the ground with a pained noise. Scott darts forward, looking distraught as he skids to his knees at Stiles' side and in the complete quiet of the cafeteria Jackson says, "Oh my god, you're a _Normal_?"

"Jackson!" a red haired girl by Jackson's side hisses. Derek vaguely recognizes her as a technopath from his Biology class but Jackson has a rapt audience and he's not going to let his moment pass.

"That's the _big_ secret? The Sheriff and Lady Kick had a _Normal_."

Exclamations and nervous laughter explodes around them, the BCS student body unsure how to react to this news. Stiles is curled into a miserable ball, cradling his arm awkwardly and Scott shoves hands under his arms and hoists him up, throwing Jackson a poisonous look as he tries to get Stiles away. It's not easy going, the crowd unwilling to part for them but then Allison is by Scott's side and people are scattering every which way as a dark red flame crackles between her palms. 

Scott throws her a grateful look over his shoulder as he hustles Stiles towards the administration building and the crowd breaks up after that as the siren wails signalling the end of the lunch break.

"Whew, didn't see that coming," Erica says, slinging an arm across Derek's shoulders. It slips off when Derek turns on Jackson, who's still standing with him team mates, looking smug. 

Derek strides over quickly, picks Jackson up and throws him through the cafeteria wall. 

" _That_ I did see coming," Erica cheers as Jackson picks himself out of plaster and debris, skin turning scaly and hissing. Derek thinks it's a bit rich that Jackson hassles him for turning into a giant wolf and Jackson actually shifts into a lizard with paralyzing toxin in his tail.

Derek drops his fangs, but before he can shift all the way, Principal Deaton appears, looking calm and unruffled about the giant hole in the cafeteria wall.

"Does someone want to tell me what's going on?" he asks.

*

Derek finds out that indeed, their meeting room is used in regular hours for detention as he and Jackson are left there to cool their heels and glare at each other. Derek tries not to let it show on his face just how mortified he is that he's twenty-two and sitting in detention.

Jackson breaks the silence first, throwing his hands up and then thumping them on the table he'd slumped behind. "How was I supposed to know?"

"What?"

"He just... I was surprised, okay? I probably shouldn't have-"

"Yeah, you _shouldn't_ have," Derek growls. He can't shift in this room so he can't flash his eyes and his fangs like he wants to, but then again neither can Jackson. He tries not to think about what it must be like for Stiles, forever stuck in a room with no powers.

"He's just so..." Jackson flails his hands, scowling and Derek leans forward, forearms resting on his knees.

"So what, Jackson? He's just _so what_? I might be late to this party but it seems to me that the way Stiles really _is_ , doesn't have anything to do with how people actually treat him."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't get me wrong, I did it too. I assumed he was an aloof asshole who got off on being better than everyone else and didn't stoop so low as to..." Derek makes a frustrated noise and rubs over his face tiredly. "Where did that impression come from, because it certainly wasn't from him?"

"It's just the way it is," Jackson says, but he's starting to look uncertain.

"Okay, let's break it down then. So, he's popular, right?" At Jackson's terse nod, Derek makes a slash in the air with his hand. "Then how come he's only got one friend?"

"What are you talking about? Everyone practically worships him."

"Oh really? When you confronted him, why were you the one with the followers and all he had was Scott?"

"He thinks he's too good for everyone."

"Does he? Or was he being separated from us because he had a pretty damn big secret? When you were yelling at him about the STC team, he said he wasn't _allowed_ , not that he didn't want to join," Derek says, and grimaces because he's remembering asking Stiles to study, Stiles knocking him back and Derek getting reflexively angry about it instead of wondering why, when all the signs were there that Stiles _did_ want to.

"He's famous-" Jackson starts to say, but he's looking less and less like he believes his own position. Derek's surprised to find that Stiles isn't the only one he's misjudged, that under the bravado Jackson seems to be a big ball of insecurity and he'd rather lash out than have anyone know it. After their second meeting and his spectacular exit, Derek had asked Erica about Jackson. It had to be hard having both parents go villain.

"The Sheriff put your parents away, didn't he?" Derek blurts, because that _has_ to be it. Jackson's got a resentment going that has strong roots and can't just be from something as petty as jealousy. 

"Shut up," Jackson grates through clenched teeth.

"That's why you hate Stiles."

"I don't hate him," Jackson says in a way that tells Derek it costs him something to admit it.

"You want to, though, right?"

"I wanted to show everyone what a phony he was. I wanted to _destroy_ him, but not like this. Not when-"

"He's just like you?"

Jackson's head jerks up and his eyes narrow. "I don't need my powers to punch your stupid face in, you know."

"You're a disappointment to your folks, right? You're not a bad guy, no matter how much you try."

"They think I'm pathetic, is that what you want to hear?"

"Jackson-"

"No, you know what? Screw you," Jackson says and stands, pushing the table over he was sat behind and moving to the detention room's door. He startles backwards a little when it opens before he reaches it.

"Can I trust you boys not to destroy any more of my school?" Deaton asks. Jackson nods stiffly and when Deaton leans around him to look at Derek, he gives him a tired thumbs up. "Alright, then. You're dismissed."

Jackson's out of the room in a shot. Derek is slower, putting his backpack together and then dawdling to the door. Deaton watches him with an almost amused expression before he actually rolls his eyes and says, "You might want to head to D building before you go home. Second floor."

"Uh, okay?" Derek says and slides out of the room.

*

D Building is the domain of Finstock, who the world is very lucky didn't come down on the evil side of the mad scientist spectrum. The first floor is taken up with labs but the second floor has always been off limits to the student body. Derek knocks on the locked door at the top of the stairs and shouldn't be surprised to find Stiles on the other side in sleep pants and an outstanding case of bedhead.

"Why are you-?" Stiles starts to ask, blinking hard. He steps back and Derek can see a comfortable looking living space, bed in one corner, posters on the walls, a couch and shaggy throw rug in a hideous orange. There are bookshelves lining the walls and Stiles now standing in the center of the space, arms crossed and looking defensive.

He's got what looks like an ace bandage covering his left wrist and forearm and Stiles sees Derek notice it, tucks his arm behind his back with a frown when he does like he's embarrassed.

"Are you okay?" Derek asks.

"Am I... that's a really interesting question, Derek. _Am I okay_? I'm going to go with a big fat _no_ on that one. What do you think?"

"Stiles."

"What? You could've just looked up loser in a dictionary. You didn't have to go to all the trouble of finding me to see one in the wild."

"It wasn't any trouble. Deaton told me where you were," Derek says and Stiles just blinks at him for a moment before he flails his hands, wincing when the motion obviously jolts his injured one.

"Well, that's just perfect. I always suspected he didn't like me much. He likes my _dad_ , everyone likes my dad. Must be why he put up with me for so long."

"Stiles, I have no idea why he told me where you are," Derek says, although he can hear a voice that sounds scarily like Erica in his head snorting at him in disbelief, _oh you don't, do you_. "I'm glad he did, though. I mean, if you're just sitting here-"

"What? Derek, what am I sitting here just?" Stiles interrupts, cheeks reddening in either anger or shame, maybe an uncomfortable mixture of both. 

"I think I'm doing this wrong. I'm bad at people," Derek says and watches Stiles deflate a little, the anger eking out of him in small increments. 

"Why are you here?"

"I did want to see if you were okay. It was a shitty thing to have happened. Jackson's a dick."

"You got that right."

"I think he's sorry it went down like that though, if you can believe it."

"I'd have trouble with him being sorry about anything."

"Well, you've known him longer so you'd probably know, but in detention-"

"You were in detention?" Stiles squawks, suddenly losing the defensive curve of his body and looking almost delighted. "Aren't you like, ninety?"

"I'm only four years older than you."

"You look older than that. In a good, sexy way."

"What?"

"Uh, what?"

"Did you just-?"

"Um, ow? I'm injured. Pay no attention to anything I say. I'm on a lot of painkillers," Stiles rushes to say, waving his bandaged arm. Derek heard him though, heard what he said and he knows he's blushing. He can feel the heat in his cheeks. He ducks his face and casts furiously around for a change in topic when something occurs to him.

"Wait, do you actually live here?"

"Since Freshman year," Stiles confirms, retreating to his bed and flopping across it. Derek takes a small armchair that's set opposite a television and a couple of gaming consoles when Stiles waves him at it. "My dad has a lot of enemies and since my mom... he can't be around as much. The school's shielded and him and Principal Deaton go way back."

"Can you leave?"

"My dad said we could discuss it when my powers manifested but..." Stiles waggles his injured arm again.

"Maybe-"

"Dude, look, I've heard every variation of the late bloomer speech there is. I turned eighteen last month. It's not happening."

"I heard about a guy that manifested when he was in his thirties."

"Yeah, who?" Stiles asks and Derek can tell by his expression that he's heard this before too. "It's fine, I've been through all the grieving stages. I hit acceptance last year. It's a lot healthier than anger or denial."

"I haven't..." Derek makes a helpless gesture with his hands. He's never heard of two powered individuals having a kid that wasn't. Stiles seems to get what he's not asking and shrugs with a rueful twist of his mouth.

"Everyone's heard of the ones that are born to two Normals, right? That's way more exciting and newsworthy than the other way around. I'm a lot rarer but it's not completely unheard of. Why do you think they have the Protection Program?"

"That's for... wait, are you going into _Protection_?" Derek asks, horrified at the prospect.

"As soon as I graduate. I'm basically doing a Normal curriculum here so I'll have a diploma and then I can go to college when they place me."

"They're going to disappear you?"

"They have to. I'm a risk to national security. If someone was able to use me as leverage against my dad..." Stiles swallows thickly and looks away for a moment. When he turns back he's plastered on a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "I'm just enjoying being able to be me while I can."

"I had no idea."

"I only wish Jackson hadn't done what he did. I might have to go into Protection early."

"You said the school was shielded."

"If someone's determined enough, they'll get in. My best defense was everyone thinking I had some awesome, kickass power and that's gone now."

"It doesn't have to be over."

"Now I'm just hoping they'll let me stay through next week so I can go to the Winter Formal. I'll obviously be going stag because I'm a laughing stock but I still want to go."

"You don't have to, uh, go stag?" Derek says before he can think twice about it. Stiles just stares at him for a moment like he's trying to process what Derek's just said before the start of a smile dims as quickly as it appeared.

"That's nice of you but you don't have to do that. I don't really want to be anyone's pity date."

"I'm not asking for a pity date," Derek says, grown bolder because Stiles is starting to look miserable. It's hesitant, but the smile makes a come back and his eyes brighten.

"Wait, seriously? You're ridiculously hot and I'm just... me."

"I like you. If you don't believe me, you can ask Erica."

"Why would I... oh!" Stiles says, really grinning now. "Have you been pining? Has there been pining I wasn't aware of?"

"Don't be an ass. Half the school has a crush on you and the other half wants to _be_ you."

"Not so much anymore, I'll bet," Stiles says, starting to slump again and Derek figures, what the hell. He leans across the small space between his chair and the bed so he can cup Stiles' face in his palms. Stiles startles a little, but then his eyes widen so they look impossibly large before they slide closed and then they're kissing.

It's not perfect. Derek's hunkered awkwardly and Stiles is leaning half off the bed, but at the same time it's the best thing Derek's ever felt. He's warm to his toes and Stiles makes an unbelievable tiny disappointed sound that will haunt Derek's dreams when he pulls away. Derek flops back in his chair, rubs a thumb over his tingling lips and says, "Just so we're clear."

"I'm... yes. All clear here," Stiles says, cheeks a lovely shade of pink.

*

"We moved the location of our study group. You don't mind, do you?" Derek asks when Stiles looks surprised to find not only Derek, but the rest of the support group at his door the next evening after school.

"Of course he doesn't, he loves us," Erica retorts breezily, knocking Derek into the door jam as she shoves past him. Isaac's next, carrying an armload of pizza boxes as Boyd and Allison troop by, Allison darts in to drop a kiss on Stiles' cheek. Scott is second to last, looking pleased with himself that he was partially responsible for the invasion and Danny rounds out the group, holding a six pack of soda.

"I just wanted to... not all of us are Jackson," Danny says, offering the drinks and Stiles takes them awkwardly and then tries to hide the pleased and surprised flush on his face. "Sometimes even Jackson isn't Jackson, I swear," Danny adds loyally.

"This is really nice of you guys," Stiles says as he follows them back in, Derek shadowing him. "I don't really do the same classes you do, though."

"Biology's Biology, right?" Boyd says, digging around the corner of Stiles' room that looks to be designated a kitchen and coming up with plates and a roll of paper towel. "We can just skip the chapters on rodents of unusual size and wandering man eating plants."

"Man, I _wish_ I did your classes," Stiles says wistfully.

"Did you finish your econ paper?" Allison asks and Stiles blinks and says, "Oh, almost?" crossing to his desk and starting to dig through it until he unearths his laptop.

It's two hours later and Derek's in the kitchen area poking hopefully through the stack of pizza boxes looking for a missed slice when Stiles comes up behind him, hooking his chin over Derek's shoulder. "I thought you were supposed to be socially awkward or something."

"I am," Derek says, turning but bringing his arms up so Stiles doesn't feel like he has to step away. 

"Really?" Stiles says, looking pointedly towards the living area, the space made warm by people and laughter. 

"They like you," Derek dismisses.

"They liked you first. _I_ like _you_ ," Stiles says, leaning forward.

"Can someone knock me out with my own Impossible Scenarios book?" Erica pipes up from the other side of the room and Derek snorts and flips her off. 

Derek and Stiles rejoin the others, squishing awkwardly onto the one beanbag chair together. Most of the books have been abandoned and everyone's talking about the Winter Formal. Derek feels Stiles tense beside him when attention swings their way, Erica asking, "So you guys in for sharing a ridiculously fantastic and expensive ride?"

"I... can't go," Stiles says before Derek can agree. Derek turns to him, confused. They're so close that Derek's nose almost touches Stiles' cheek and he can see the way Stiles' face has pulled down in disappointment. 

"Why not?" Derek asks, determined to not think the worst, that Stiles has changed his mind about wanting to go with _him_. 

"The theme's _Amongst the Stars_ -"

"Super lame," Erica snorts.

"Lydia's final year project was an anti-gravity generator. They're using it to make the theme literal. The school hall's going to be hovering above the school grounds."

"You scared of heights?" Isaac asks, not teasing, just genuinely curious.

"No, it's... it's going to put the hall outside the school's protective perimeter. I literally can't go." Stiles holds his wrist up, the uninjured one that has what looks like a chunky black watch on it. Except, it's not a watch. It's got a smooth face and a green blinking light on the side.

"Can't you just take that off?" Isaac asks.

Stiles doesn't roll his eyes, even though Derek likes that he's come to know Stiles enough to see when he wants to. "No one can take it off, that's the point. I know it's to keep me safe and make sure no one's grabbed me, but I also had a bit of a rebellious phase when I was fifteen so I think it was also to make sure I didn't sneak out."

"Rebellious phase? I would've liked to have seen that," Derek says. They're still close enough that his words brush against Stiles' cheek and he can feel it when Stiles smiles.

"Ugh, gross," Erica groans. 

"Can't you switch off your empathic stuff?" Stiles asks.

"I wish I could with you two at the moment."

Stiles' smile goes more pleased and Derek knows he's blushing but Danny breaks the embarrassed silence with, "I bet Lydia could get it off you without anyone knowing."

"Wait, what?" Stiles says, leaning forward and putting a warm palm on Derek's face to push him away because he'd been basically nuzzling at Stiles' neck, unashamed and uncaring of their company. 

"She made an anti-gravity generator that can lift an entire school hall. I'm pretty sure she could find a way to get that doohickey off you for a couple of hours without anyone the wiser."

"Sorry Derek, I think Danny's just replaced you as being my favorite," Stiles says, starting to jig in the beanbag chair in excitement.

"Hey!" Scott protests automatically and Stiles makes a complicated gesture at him that involves touching his heart, his head and swiping a finger across his brow in a weird kind of salute that has Scott sitting back, mollified, and that no one else understands.

"I don't think that's such a good idea." Derek hates putting a pin in Stiles' enthusiasm, but he knows no one else will.

"Why not?" Stiles and Danny ask in unison.

"Stiles, we don't know how many people know that you're..." Derek makes his own gesture that _everyone_ understands and makes Stiles frown. "They're protecting you for a reason. _This_ ," Derek says, picking up Stiles' wrist and tapping the device. "Is for a reason."

"I'll be fine. The entire junior and senior class will be there and you guys will be there."

"I think it's too dangerous. Especially now."

"If you've changed your mind about-"

"Stiles, you know it's not about that," Derek interrupts before Stiles can follow that thought to its conclusion. "Your dad has a lot of enemies. There's a lot of really powerful individuals that would take on an entire school of Unusuals just to hurt him, or worse, have a way to control him."

"It's the last chance I'll probably get to do something with you guys, with _you_ , before I'm turfed out into the land of the mundanes. I'll have a different name, maybe a different _face_ ," Stiles says and Derek jerks at that. He hadn't even contemplated it but it's true. Going into protection can mean everything is changed. Derek can't imagine a world without Stiles' coffee-colored eyes, his moles, that wide, infuriating, impossible, improbable mouth.

It's too much of a risk though. Derek would rather know Stiles was safe and gone than attempt to steal a few more hours and have something happen to him.

"I won't go either. We'll stay in, eat junk food, watch movies. I'd rather do that with you anyway," Derek says and even though Stiles doesn't look convinced, at least for now the argument seems to be over. Derek flicks a stern look Danny's way just in case and he holds up his hands, shrugging.

*

"As a member of the faculty, wouldn't you already know?" Derek asks, frowning at Miss Palmer. She'd been edging around a question for about half an hour, finally becoming uncharacteristically impatient with Derek and outright demanding to know whether the rumors she'd heard about Stiles were true.

"Principal Deaton keeps many secrets," she says, sounding annoyed, but then she blinks and she's back to the cool, calm woman Derek's gotten used to. "I just wanted to know because something like that would have an affect on _you_."

"I don't see how," Derek hedges, because he hasn't yet let Miss Palmer know that he and Stiles are more than friends. He still feels like that's something he wants to keep to himself, and he's become used to trusting his instincts. They'd kept him alive when Peter had gone dark. He'd received a message from Peter to meet and he hadn't gone. He hadn't known at the time that the rest of his family-

"Mr Stilinski was admired, put on a pedestal. To find out he's a _Normal_ after all this time? Surely you all feel betrayed."

"I wouldn't put it like that. It was to keep him safe," Derek argues.

Miss Palmer snorts, an indelicate sound that makes Derek frown harder at her but she's looking at the clock. "Oh, look at that. We're out of time," she says breezily, standing and ushering Derek out the door. She pushes him right out into the hallway where he knocks into Scott and shuts the door firmly behind them as they untangle themselves.

"That was weird," Derek huffs.

"Who was that? She looked familiar."

"Just the guidance counselor," Derek dismisses.

"I didn't think we had-" Scott starts to say, but Derek notices he's holding an envelope in hand with _Derek_ scrawled across it and interrupts with, "What's that?"

"Oh, right," Scott says, looking at the partially crumpled envelope. "Look, don't shoot or... y'know, claw the messenger." 

It's the day of the Winter Formal and Derek gets a sinking feeling as he snatches the envelope out of Scott's grip. He takes a moment to press it to his face, uncaring if Scott thinks it's weird, to chase the lingering scent of Stiles on it, before he tears it open.

> _Derek,_
> 
> _I want you to go to the dance. I'm making myself scarce to make sure you do, the detention room isn't the only power free room in the school so you won't be able to find me. I want you to have this experience with your friends, I don't want you to miss it for me. Come to my room after, I want to peel you out of the sexy suit you'll be wearing._
> 
> _Don't be mad, please._
> 
> _-Stiles-_
> 
> _P.S. There will be a reward if you manage to knock Jackson into the punchbowl._

"Do you know where he's hiding?" Derek demands as soon as he's finished reading and Scott gives him a helpless look.

"I'm a terrible liar so of course not," Scott says, shrugging and Derek sighs, folding the note up and sticking it in his back pocket.

"I don't have anything to wear, anyway."

"Stiles already took care of it. Isaac has your suit for you, he's going to meet you at your apartment with Erica and Boyd. We all started talking about skipping the dance to hang out with you guys and Stiles wouldn't hear of it and then he wrote that."

"He's not going to do anything stupid, is he?" Derek asks, suspicious.

Scott sighs. "Probably, but we might as well go along with it. Nothing else to do, right?"

*

Derek's amused to see that a bunch of freshmen with flight capabilities have been tasked with ferrying students up to the floating school hall. "Lydia couldn't have made an extra generator for a bus or something?" Derek asks Erica as he gets passed to a big kid wearing an ill-fitting red jacket and a dour expression.

"Tell me about it," the kid gripes and then Derek's being lifted and deposited probably a little too roughly onto the deck surrounding the school hall. 

They follow the sound of students and music into the hall that's been transformed with paper streamers, balloons and lights. The STC scoreboards have been cranked back against the far walls and with Erica linking arms with him, Derek can admit that he's glad he's there, even if he wishes Stiles was too.

"You're allowed to have fun tonight," Erica says, leaning into his side and he sighs, patting the hand she has hooked around his elbow.

"I just-"

"Yeah, we know," Isaac drawls, tweaking Derek's tie that has cartoon wolves gamboling across it. Apparently Stiles had picked it out and even though it was ridiculous, Derek felt something warm and happy settle in his gut when he put it on.

"Hey guys!" Allison says, appearing in a swirl of pretty green dress and dimples with Boyd on her heels. Erica lets go of Derek to grab Allison and smoosh their cheeks together before wrapping arms around Boyd and as the girls are comparing shoes Derek drifts away, threading through the other students. He sees Danny and offers a wave, then spots Lydia who raises an eyebrow at him and looks smug. Derek draws his eyebrows down, but then Scott is barreling towards him, looking determined.

"Hi Scott-" Derek gets out right before Scott grabs his face and kisses him. "What the hell-?" Derek starts to say, pushing back, but then the _scent_ hits him and his mouth drops open. "Wait, _Stiles_?"

"Yes! Man, your face!" Scott/Stiles crows, pumping a triumphant fist in the air. It's still a little hard to reconcile because he's looking at Scott but it's definitely Stiles through and through.

"What... how... what?" Derek manages intelligently and Stiles hops back into Derek's space, this time wrapping arms around his waist. 

"Scott's able to cast like, I suppose you'd call it a glamor on stuff. This'll last about two hours and then we'll switch out."

"Where is he?"

"Cooling his heels in my room like a champ until it's time to switcheroo."

"Does Allison know?" Derek asks, because if she doesn't, she's possibly just seen _Scott_ run up and lay one on him out of nowhere.

"Of course she does. She looked a little creepily interested in two Scotts," Stiles says with a delicate shudder.

"I don't think I would survive two Stiles' running around," Derek muses, cupping Stiles' shoulders with his palms. It's weird and feels a little wrong to be touching _Scott_ like this so Derek closes his eyes, leans forward and just breathes in. That's the sense that's telling him he's got Stiles under his hands.

"You mean you would die of the awesome?" Stiles says.

"Something like that," Derek huffs.

"I'm going to grab drinks before the punchbowl gets frozen or blown up or something," Stiles says and when Derek raises an eyebrow, Stiles shakes his head. "Apparently it happens every year. You want?"

"Sure," Derek agrees, then narrows his eyes. "No knocking Jackson in though, no matter how tempting. Remember you'll be getting Scott in trouble."

"That would make it the perfect crime," Stiles says with a ridiculous waggle of Scott's eyebrows and then when Derek cuffs him over the back of the head he sighs, "Okay, okay. I haven't seen Jackson anyway. This night might just be about perfect."

"It would be perfect if you could be you."

"Hey, safety first, right?"

" _Safe_ would be us back in the school, watching movies with me pinning you to the couch."

"Let's do that in," Stiles glances over Derek's shoulder presumably at the giant STC countdown clock mounted on the wall. "In T minus sixty minutes."

"It's a date," Derek calls to Stiles' retreating back and then he's nudged forward and a grinning Erica, Allison and Isaac are all standing by him.

"I could feel the schmoopiness from the other side of the hall," Erica says, reaching out to pinch at Derek's cheeks. He swats her away with a scowl that lasts about three seconds before he's grinning helplessly again.

"Did everyone know?" Derek complains.

"About Operation Nudge-nudge-wink-wink. Everyone except Scott. He can't keep a secret to save himself," Allison says, fondly.

"He can keep one to save someone else," Derek muses and Allison's eyes shine for a second before she blinks quickly, nodding and smiling.

"I'd say it's group dance time before you guys turn back into pumpkins. Where's Stiles?" Erica asks.

"Good question," a woman says and Derek turns, eyebrows climbing when he sees Miss Palmer tugging Scott behind her. It's the real Scott and Derek immediately feels his hackles raise.

"Derek, it's-!" Scott starts to say but Miss Palmer smacks a hand over his mouth, tutting.

"Don't ruin the reveal, sweetie," she croons, circling their small group with Scott still held close until she's backed towards the stage where the DJ equipment is. 

"Nephew!" a voice booms from behind and Derek turns slowly, feeling icy fear settle in the pit of his stomach. He spots Peter after a few moments, standing up on the punch table, holding Stiles aloft by the back of his jacket. Students have scattered away, unsure of what's going on, murmurs running thick through the gathered crowd. 

"I'm pretty sure the last time I checked, McCall wasn't a twin," Miss Palmer says and shakes the Scott in her grasp hard. He lets out a choked yelp and Stiles is suddenly _Stiles_ again.

"Who the hell are you?" Derek snarls at Miss Palmer.

"Sarah. That's my sister, Sarah," Stiles gets out through a choked exhalation, eyes watering because the front of his shirt is pressing into his throat the way Peter's holding him.

"I prefer Rattlesnake," she says with a sneer and she shoves Scott at them who scrambles over immediately.

Derek's looking between them, at the way they've positioned themselves up off the floor and while it might be a domination tactic, Derek's also started hearing muffled, worrying thumps from the edges of the room. 

"Up, now!" he cries, turning to a table of achievement trophies behind them and sweeping it clear with an arm. He gets Erica and Allison by the waists and tosses them up, Isaac and Scott scrambling after without having to be told twice. Derek's feet just clear the floor when he sees it, smoke from a smoke machine billowing across the floor. When it touches students, they drop like marionettes with their strings cut.

Derek sees a couple of other students have also scrambled onto whatever higher surfaces they could, some of the flyers hovering, awkwardly holding up others. The majority of the student body are on the floor though, hidden now by the smoke covering it.

"You always do make things difficult," Peter says, letting Stiles get feet down on the table so he can breathe properly, maintaining a firm grip on the back of his neck. 

"What do you want? If it's me, you can have me. Let everyone else go."

"Derek, no-!" Stiles cries and Peter puts a hand over his mouth before throwing a feral grin at Derek.

"Why would I do that? I'm about to become the most powerful being in existence. I can pick and choose the powers I want and thanks to the lovely Rattlesnake here, I know exactly who to go to to get the best. There was already a fun little jock who had the most delightfully venomous tail. Mix a little of his venom with some dry ice and voila," Peter says, gesturing around.

"You killed Jackson?" Derek gasps, horrified.

"Relax, I just _borrowed_ his power. I have another, more interesting shapeshifter in mind and I've never been able to wear scales. They don't go with my eyes."

"Stiles is a Normal. You'll get nothing from him," Derek says, feeling desperate.

"Oh, I know. Very disappointing, that. I was promised great things from him," Peter says, throwing a glare in Rattlesnake's direction.

"I didn't know-"

"No matter!" Peter interrupts, cutting a hand through the air. "Why, just on that little table you've set up for me alone, there's a whole assortment of delectable talents," Peter says, eyes landing on Scott, Erica and Allison in turn. He pauses on Isaac, cocking his head like a curious puppy. "You though. I have no idea what you do. Apparently you were good at ducking counseling."

"Oh, you wouldn't want my power," Isaac says, with a small smile. "It pretty much blows." Isaac takes in a large lungful of air and then blows out. Derek realizes he never asked what Isaac's power was, figuring he would tell them when he felt comfortable enough to. Now Derek watches as Peter has to fight to stay on the table he's perched on and keep a hold of Stiles and all the poisoned mist blows away, revealing piles of students underneath it.

"No!" Peter yells, incensed as Isaac pumps a fist in the air in triumph. With the smoke cleared, it'll only be a matter of minutes before the students start rousing and it seems Peter's plan to leisurely work his way through them has been thwarted.

"You should let Stiles go and get out of here before the more volatile kids wake up and decide to use you like a piñata," Erica says, lifting her chin and baring her teeth. 

"Oh, I'll let him go," Peter says, eyes blazing and then Derek watches in horrified dismay as Peter turns, picks Stiles up and _throws_ him out the nearest window. The school hall, hovering in the sky, has only the school itself made tiny and indistinct with distance below it.

"No!" Derek roars, fangs, fur and claws exploding out. He can't launch himself at Peter without risking landing on and hurting only just-rousing kids but he almost does it anyway, held back by Erica and Allison throwing arms around his thickened neck and head desperately. Derek sees in the periphery a couple of the flyers pitch themselves out the window after Stiles, but he knows they won't be quick enough.

Erica is trying to push calm into him, but it's too tinged with her own shock and it doesn't touch the anger in Derek, the burning need to have Peter's throat in his jaws.

"Oh my god," Scott breathes from Derek's other side, and that small exhalation, the whispered words said with such awe, cuts through his red haze like a knife. Derek turns to see that Stiles is hovering outside the window he was tossed through, feet dangling over nothing and arms held out like he's balancing himself.

He wobbles a little, then corrects and he's looking amazed as he meets Derek's eyes. "Surprised?" he chokes out. "So am I!"

"You're flying? That's impossible," Peter exclaims.

Stiles' face hardens and then he tilts down so he's horizontal and bursts back through the window and straight at Peter, picking him up and driving him into the wall opposite. Derek, released from Allison and Erica in their surprise, leaps off the table and barrels towards Peter and Stiles. Before he can reach them, Stiles picks up another nearby table and swings it at Peter, knocking him sideways. Peter skids to a stop under the STC scoreboard, unconscious.

Stiles drops the table, looking at his hands in bewilderment. "Okay, that's new too," he breathes. He turns to Derek, grabbing handfuls of his furry mantel and pressing his face into Derek's muzzle. "Guess I'm a little bit mom _and_ dad."

"Hey," Scott says, skidding to a stop next to them and grabbing Stiles up, squeezing him in relief. "Dude, how so awesome?"

"I know, right?" Stiles says in glee. "I was told a few times that either shock or an emotional trauma might be the key to unlocking any powers I had. Who knew all it took was plummeting to my death?"

Derek shifts back, unmindful that he's completely naked now, and grabs Stiles back off Scott so he can wrap arms around him and breath shakily into the side of his neck. "Let's make that a once in a lifetime event, okay?"

"Agreed," Stiles says shakily, then leans back so he can waggle his eyebrows. "As much as I enjoy the manhandling, can someone get Derek a pair of pants?"

"On it," Allison says as Isaac totters over to them with an arm around a groggy Boyd who'd been caught under the poisoned smoke.

"Damn, son," Boyd says, cuffing Stiles on the shoulder and smiling.

"Ringing endorsement from Vernon Boyd. My life is complete," Stiles says, shrugging off his jacket to wrap around Derek's waist.

"Where'd your sister go?" Erica asks, craning around.

"I think she took off as soon as she sensed the tide was turning," Isaac says.

"She was always good at disappearing at opportune moments," Stiles sighs. 

"What are we going to do with him?" Isaac asks, raising an eyebrow at a prone Peter.

"I have somewhere we can put him until the proper authorities arrive." Deaton appears carrying a towel that Derek gratefully accepts and quickly ties around himself as Stiles moves the jacket up to drape over his shoulders. He looks at Stiles pointedly and says, "I think you call him dad."

"He was just getting into being the supportive parent of a Normal. He's going to have to rethink his whole strategy," Stiles says with a wry twist to his mouth. 

"I'm sure you'll manage."

*

It's not every day you meet someone that has statues in their honor and is also the father of your maybe, someday, hopefully forever.

"Sir," Derek says, shaking Sheriff's hand when it's offered and being relieved that his voice doesn't come out in a high pitched, awed squeak of nothing.

"You're Derek?" Sheriff confirms with a lifted brow.

"Yes, sir."

"I've heard a great deal about you."

"Recently?"

"From the beginning of the year, actually. My son was quite smit-" He's interrupted by Stiles hurtling over and clapping a hand on his shoulder that sends him stumbling. Stiles looks shocked, blinking wide surprised eyes at his father but Sheriff just turns around, laughing. "I'm going to have to start bracing myself around you, huh?"

"Guess you're not used to that," Stiles says, looking tentatively pleased.

"Not since I worked with Baron Von Punch. That guy packed a wallop."

"What's going to happen to my Uncle?" Derek asks. A bunch of serious looking men in black suits had arrived to haul Peter away under Sheriff's stern direction and Derek had sat on the cleared punch table, pretty useless blanket draped over his shoulders and much more useful Stiles by his side with their hands tangled together. The others had all been ferried down to the school proper already but Derek had asked to stay, knowing he had to see this through if not for himself, then for his family.

"He's going to Super Max. He won't have anyone with so much as a latent ability nearby so he should be pretty well contained. Most of the powers he's managed to-" Stiles reaches out and nudges his dad and the man's face goes apologetic. "He'll be held under the Threat Act."

"What about-?" It's Derek's turn to grimace in apology, not really knowing how to ask after Stiles' sister. 

"She's probably gone back to the Red Hand. I'm hopeful that we can reach her."

"We'll keep trying," Stiles says, lifting his chin and Derek wants to reach out and touch him, but Sheriff already has a hand resting on his shoulder, looking proud. 

"So, I'm assuming you won't have to go into Protection?" Derek hazards, hopeful that he'll get to have Stiles, even just for a little while longer. It's his last year but Stiles is still a Junior and Derek will have time to-

"I talked to Principal Deaton and he agreed that Stiles can graduate early. He'll be able to go into Service."

"Already?" Stiles squeaks, wide-eyed.

"No need to wait. You'll start training with me next week."

Derek watches his chances with Stiles slip away as quickly as it takes for Sheriff to say the words. Stiles will go into Service and he'll be as famous as his dad. He'll have keys to the city, statues and a press junket before the rest of Derek's group even so much as graduates. Derek snorts to himself, remembering his plans to ask Stiles to join them and how ludicrous that all seems now.

"Derek, you-"

"That's great!" Derek interrupts, a little overly brightly but he doesn't think either Stilinski notices the brittle edge to his voice. 

"I guess?" Stiles says, some of the happiness leaking out of his expression and Derek knows it's probably because of how awkward he's making everything just by still hanging around. Derek will be an anecdote to him soon enough, a story he might tell about his humble beginnings. The silly shapeshifter who thought he actually had anything to offer Stiles.

"So, I'd better take off before all the freshmen go home. I don't really want to get stranded up here."

"I can-" Stiles starts to offer but Derek talks over him, just wanting nothing more than to be as far away from Stiles as possible so he can wallow in his disappointment.

"You stay, hang out with your dad. I'm sure you have some catching up to do."

"Derek-"

"Maybe you could swing by graduation, if you're not too busy," Derek says, could smack himself for even bringing it up because _of course_ Stiles will have better stuff to do now.

"Of course I-"

"Or not. Totally up to you," Derek says. He knows it's probably frustrating the hell out of Stiles not to let him finish a single sentence, but Derek doesn't really want to be let down easy, not tonight after he's watched his Uncle dragged away. 

"Sure," Stiles says, his whole body stiffening and Derek tries to tell himself it's not with a kind of affected hurt. "Or not."

"Really great meeting you," Derek says to Sheriff, who's looking between him and Stiles like he's watching a particularly horrible slow motion accident happening.

"Last call!" a girl with straight green hair and a tutu yells from the foyer and Derek waves a hand.

"Coming!"

He's rushing towards the double doors of the school hall and he really wishes he didn't have such good hearing because then he could pretend he doesn't hear the gentle, _what was that all about, I thought you two were,_ of the Sheriff's and Stiles' reply.

_No, apparently not._

*

The last thing Derek expected on graduation day was to have a cheering section just for him. He ducks his face, smiling into his ceremonial cape when Erica, Isaac, Boyd, Danny, Scott and Allison all stand to cheer when his name is read out.

"Way to go Fang Boy!" Erica hoots when Derek returns to his seat. 

"Please don't. I haven't picked a name yet and I don't want that to stick," he turns in his chair to hiss at her. It's because he's turned around that he sees someone duck out of the auditorium's back doors and it's a shape he'd recognize anywhere. With a thumping heart, Derek gets up and shuffles out of his row, a couple of people grumbling and one girl actually zapping him on the ass when he steps on toes.

He ignores it all, plus the curious stares of his friends when he darts for the back and out the doors, sees someone in a long coat and baseball cap hurrying down the path outside.

"Stiles? Stiles!" he calls, trotting after the figure who freezes, shoulders hunching in a guilty way. 

"Sorry, sorry," Stiles says, turning around slowly and wincing. "I know you didn't want me here but-"

"I didn't.... what?"

"I just wanted to watch you graduate. I tried to be subtle but I guess I can't even do that right."

"Why would you think I wouldn't want you here?"

"Because I put your Uncle in Super Max? I know stuff changed that night, that you probably don't want to see me but... I knew this was a bad idea."

"Stiles, god, I _wanted_ you to come. I haven't seen you in weeks and I wanted... I thought since you were going solo and everything with your dad that you wouldn't want... me."

"Derek," Stiles breathes, stepping into him with an incredulous look on his face. "You are such a dumbass. _Of course_ I want you. I've wanted you since I saw your grumpy photo in the hall at school."

"Seriously?"

"Dead seriously. I thought maybe after everything the dance _had_ been a pity date and you really... after what happened..."

"Stiles, I think we need to stop using words. I think words are bad for us," Derek says, cupping Stiles' face in his hands and tugging it forward. He watches the way Stiles lets himself be handled, how his eyes slide closed and he might be guilty of groaning just the tiniest bit before their lips even touch. 

"You mean if we'd both gotten over ourselves, we could've been doing this the whole time?" Stiles demands when they've pulled back from each other, both panting and flushed.

"Words bad. More kissing," Derek reminds him and pushes Stiles' overlarge coat aside so he can feel the shape of him, convince himself this is real and-

"What on earth are you wearing under here?" Derek demands, pulling back when his hands encounter nothing but buckles and leather and slippery fabric.

"Uh, I might've been at a fitting before I came here. It's stupid," Stiles says, trying to tug his coat closed but Derek just pushes it off him.

"Holy cow."

"That's one way of putting it," Stiles says, hunching into himself. He's wearing what can only be described as a leather jumpsuit with dark blue and gold piping and a low-slung belt that doesn't seem to serve any purpose except accentuating the narrowness of Stiles' hips. "Apparently it's streamlined for flying."

"It's certainly... something," Derek chokes out. Stiles is now blushing brick red as Derek manhandles him around so he can see the uniform from all sides. Stiles' ass looks worryingly fantastic, so much so that Derek gets the urge to wrap him back up in his coat and perhaps tuck him under his arm and find somewhere very private so he can find out how long it will take to peel something like this off.

It might be quicker with the claws.

"It's just for a publicity shot. I'll get a less revealing one when I go into Service."

"When will that be?"

"I told my dad I want to finish school properly, with my friends," Stiles says. "I've got the summer to make up for the last few weeks and then I'll be haunting these halls for another year."

"That's great," Derek says warmly. He had to admit, he'd been worried about Stiles going into Service so early. He deserved a little more time to learn and to be able to be a kid.

"Yeah, and maybe when _I_ graduate, I'll be invited to join this team I've been hearing about."

"You don't need a team," Derek blurts, because Stiles doesn't. He's the classic solo, powerful and daunting. 

"I think I know what I need," Stiles says, looping his arms around Derek's neck. 

"You're serious about this?"

"As serious as this outfit isn't," Stiles says and they both laugh, leaning into each other. 

"You know Erica's trying to call us _Happy Fun Hit Squad_?"

"I think Erica should be banned from naming anything, ever."

"Agreed."

"You picked your own name, yet?"

"I'm thinking Derek."

"That's... original."

"It's menacing enough."

"You couldn't get the online register to work, could you?"

"Every variation of wolf I could think of has been used unless I want to call myself Wolfman989. How is that even possible?"

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://kellifer-k.tumblr.com/). Don't be shy, come say hi.


End file.
